My roommate might be obsessed with lighting. Seriously. I think my feeling about lighting, if it wasn’t through a window, in an apartment, was summed up Wednesday night at the Apartment Therapy monthly Design Evening by Isabelle LaRue of Engineer Your Space. She was presenting her DIY for hiding the hideous typical apartment ceiling lights. She basically said that, since she is renting, she never thought to put much work in to the lighting, it is what it is and there’s not much you can do about it, or at least you don’t want to spend much money to do it. I agree, I think it’s like that for many improvements when it comes to your apartment, but I digress. The point is, when my roommate wanted to buy lights, I was like, “ehh.”
So far since he has moved in, we have installed under counter lights in the kitchen, which are very nice, I must admit. He also lit up this rather odd closet in his room. He started talking about new lights for the living room, pre-painting, by the way. We looked at Lowe’s whiling picking out paint for his room, but didn’t see anything good, so we made our way to Ikea last weekend. After an exhausting trip through the showrooms looking at the lighting, we finally made our way to the lighting in the marketplace to spend god know how much time looking at lights. Since he wanted them, I wanted him to pick them out, but he does not do well making decisions on such things I’m learning. I did pick out paint chips for him to pick his bedroom colors from, I should have known after that. In then end we ended up with two lights, one hanging, Hemma Cord, one standing, Rodd stand, with the same shade,Lobbo, in different sizes, 12″ and 14″ diameter, with compact fluorescent bulbs.
They look great, I give him that, and I totally prefer their light to the horrible over head light. I think I want to go back and get another shade and cut in half and recreate Isabelle’s drum cover. The only thing I need to do right away is figure out how to get mu roommate to stop walking through the apartment, turning on all of the lights, especially his, and then walking out. I’m not even kidding.